Because it pleased her to make him an honoured guest, Lorraine had been at considerable pains in ordering her dinner, and she was gratified to observe that it was not wasted on him.
Certainly, among other things at Oxford he had learnt to know a good dinner and good wine, and enjoy them as a connoisseur. It amused her also to observe that the old-fashioned air with which he had inquired a little masterfully after her health, grew upon him as the evening progressed.
She thought he must be a little bit of a tyrant to his mother, and any one he was specially fond of. Not dictatorially so, but with a humorous, half-satirical insistence that was very engaging.
When the sat over the fire together, later, she found herself telling him many things about her early struggles, and first successes, not in the least in a “talking down” attitude, but as to a very sympathetic companion of her own age.
It was evident he was truly interested, and this made him a charming listener. And he told her yet further of his own hopes, and disappointments, and discouragements. Several times since he took his degree, one friend or another had held out hopeful expectations of being able to put him on to this case of that, which might bring a brief. And always the hope had failed, and the promise ended in smoke.
She gave him sympathy in her turn, and said she would not raise his expectations unkindly, but she believed she could really help him to get a start. She would speak to Lord Denton about it. He was always ready to do a little thing like that for her.
“He is one of those dear people,” she told him, “who seem to try to make up for their own incorrigible laziness by going out of their way to put some one else in the way of a start.”
She saw the colour deepen in his face, and a subdued light shine in his eyes, as he thanked her rather haltingly. The little show of diffidence was very charming. How far removed, how amazingly far removed he was from the average good-looking youth of twenty-four, who was usually so anxious to impress every one with his attributes and his powers.
And he was not even average. Every time she saw him she wondered afresh at his extraordinary wealth of attraction. One could have forgiven him a few airs and mannerisms; but no forgiveness was asked: in every single phrase she found him always the modest, unassuming, high-bred gentleman.
So they sat on and talked, and for the time being the warfare of the afternoon passed from her mind. Probing seemed suddenly out of place. Why probe?... Their friendship had slipped of itself into an old companionship. What need for more? She knew instinctively he would come often to fill her lonely hours, and tell her all about his work and his doings.